Heart in A Cage

The week leading up to Saturday went by excruciatingly slow. School seemed to drag on forever and, even though I had Sam and Diamond there to somewhat distract me, I wanted nothing more than for it to end. Life at the Walter home went on as usual. I still walked to school with Nelson in the mornings; Kelvin always convinced me to take him to the park every now and then; I rarely saw Uncle Jeff since he was always at work; and Aunt Karen continued to fret over me. As for Deon, I only saw him in the middle of the night, when he would be trying to sneak into the house quietly and I'd be watching TV in the living room. He would just grin at me and put his finger to his lips as he stumbled inside the house. I'd stopped being surprised after the first two days.

On Saturday morning, I was woken up by the sound of my too-loud alarm. A groan escaped my lips as I shoved my face deeper into the pillows, shifting around slightly. Of course, the goddamn alarm continued to ring until I couldn't take it anymore and smacked my hand--hard--on top of it. A sharp pain shot through my fingers and up my arm. Cursing under my breath and completely awake now, I sat up in bed.

The sun's rays were spilling in through the glass window and onto the floor. It looked unusually warm outside, especially for it being October. I blinked, rubbed my eyes and yawned loudly, turning my face away from the window. Leaning over and grabbing a shirt from the floor, I quickly pulled it on and got out of bed.

Grabbing a change of clothes, I quietly exited the guest room. The hallway was empty and I assumed everyone was still sleeping--not surprising, seeing as it was early Saturday morning. Stifling another yawn, I made my way inside the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

As soon as I got into the shower and the cold stream of water hit my face, I was aware of everything. The sleepy haze hanging over my eyes was washed away and I let out a shuddering breath. The unbidden thoughts hiding away in my mind seemed to come to life, too. And, instead of trying to push them away, I let them wash over me.

* * *

I slung the backpack over my shoulder, grabbed my phone, and walked out of the guest room. The house was eerily quiet and as I strolled down the hallway, even the sound of the floorboards creaking seemed loud. Making my way quietly down the stairs and into the living room, I dropped the backpack onto the couch. A voice behind me suddenly made me jump.

"You ready?" Deon raised his eyebrows and grinned at me when he saw the startled look on my face. He was dressed, but looked tired, like he hadn't slept all night. "Woah, sorry, dude. Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's alright," I said nonchalantly, shoving my hands into my pockets. "When are we leaving?"

"In a bit," he said over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen. I followed him and, as if on cue, my stomach rumbled. Deon went over to the fridge and pulled out some bread. "You want some toast?" he asked, looking at me.

I nodded, then sat down in one of the dining chairs, letting out a puff of breath. "Where are we going, anyway? I mean, an actual camping ground or..." I didn't know why I was suddenly so curious, but I guess it didn't hurt to know what was actually going to be happening. Deon hadn't been home enough for me to properly ask him about this whole camping thing.

"Kind of. I mean, Pete's dad has this cabin up in the mountains or something, a few hours' drive from here. Around this time of the year, the weather's supposed to be real nice there. Not too hot, not too cold. And even if it does get too chilly, we're in a cabin so it's not all that bad." He shrugged. "We were supposed to go in the summer, but Luke had some swimming meets so we couldn't." Grabbing two pieces of bread from the toaster, he tossed them on a plate and handed them to me. "You ever been camping before?"

"Not really, no," I mumbled, going over to grab some jam and peanut butter. As a second thought, I poured myself some orange juice then walked back to the table. "The only experience I have with camping is in backyards."

Deon let out a laugh. "Remember that time when we camped out on your trampoline? Damn, that must've been so long ago, I hardly remember it. But I recall us running into the house 'round midnight 'cause we thought we saw weird shadows or some shit."

I felt myself smile. Oddly enough, I did remember that. I must have been around seven or eight years old at the time. "Yeah," I said, taking a bite of my sandwich. "I think we made Aunt Karen come out there with us and check to see. And even when she said we were fine, we didn't go back out there."

Deon opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly we heard a long honk outside, followed by three short ones. I raised my eyebrows at Deon.

"Shit, is he trying to wake up the whole damn neighborhood..." Deon's voice faded off as he half-walked, half-jogged towards the front of the house. I heard the front door open, a shout that was immediately dropped to a whisper, and then the door closed. I figured he'd gone outside to talk to Pete, as I heard no footsteps coming into the house.

Stuffing the rest of the sandwich into my mouth, I chewed vigorously and then gulped down the juice. Walking out into the living room, I picked up my backpack just as Deon walked into the room. Behind him, I guessed, was Pete. He was a pretty normal-looking guy. Same height as me, a bit bigger in built, with cropped brown hair and a wide smile. When he saw me, he nodded in greeting.

"Connor, right?" he asked, grinning, and stuck out his hand.

I shook his hand and nodded slightly, smiling back. "Yeah, and I'm guessing you're Pete."

"The one and only." He let out a small laugh and then turned his eyes on Deon. "Come on, man, you ready or not? Get your shit. We still have to pick up Luke."

I heard Deon mumble "I know, I know" as he grabbed his own backpack and slung it over his shoulder. Checking his phone quickly, he glanced up the stairs, shook his head as if to dismiss a thought, then walked out of the house. Pete and I followed him, and as I strolled down the driveway, Deon stayed back to lock the door.

"Nice ride," I commented casually as we walked up to Pete's truck. And it was. A deep blue in colour, it looked practically brand-new--all sleek and shiny from every angle. "Is it a Ford?"

"Sure is," he replied, and I could hear the pride in his voice. We both looked over when Deon came towards us, tossing his keys from hand to hand. "Come on, put your stuff in the back and let's go." Pete walked over to the driver's side, unlocked the truck and got in.

Deon tossed his backpack in the back of the truck, and I followed suit. Deon got into the passenger seat, and I hopped in the back. Finally, we were on our way to Lukas's.

* * *

Lukas was just closing the garage when we pulled up alongside his driveway. As soon as he heard the truck, he turned around and held up his hand in a wave. A slight smile was playing on his lips, and I wondered if he could see me sitting in the back seat. I quickly dismissed the thought. Lukas turned his back on us once more and finished up with the garage. Then he picked up his backpack, which he slung over his shoulder, and a large bag which I guessed contained his camping gear. He walked over and threw the stuff in the back of the truck.

"Hey, man," I heard him say as he came up to talk to Pete through the window. They exchanged quick greetings and some details about the directions, then Lukas walked over to the other side of the truck.

"Startin' to get kind of cold," Deon mumbled as he got out. He pulled his seat forward and let Lukas into the back. Lukas grinned at me as he sat down.

As soon as Deon got back in, we hit the road.

The truck had more than enough space for us, but because one of Pete's bags were in the backseat with me and Lukas, it was a little squished. With the bag pushed to one side, Lukas sat beside me, close enough that our shoulders were snug against each other.

This was going to be a long ride.